


Sold My Soul To a Three Piece

by AliceEdwins



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-02-17 04:48:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13069461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceEdwins/pseuds/AliceEdwins
Summary: Miriam makes a deal to save Megaton. Hopefully it's not a deal with a devil.





	1. Chapter 1

His voice gives Miriam shivers. Not the good kind, like in pre-war novels, the bad kind. There is something about the way he looks at her too. Eyes behind tinted glasses, a promise of something wrong in them. She wants to run. He wants her to blow up an entire town. Calls her dear, rubs her knuckles affectionately. It’s all she can do to quietly suggest they take the conversation elsewhere.

Trading her virtue for an entire town. Perhaps she should have gotten proof and gone to the Sheriff but something tells her that wouldn't end well. Instead, they walk down to a house by the bomb, him guiding with a hand on her back.

He doesn’t kiss her until he locks the door behind them. She considers killing him, but no. She hasn’t killed anything besides a radroach when she turned ten. No reason to start with him. Hopefully, her body is enough.

At first, he seems unable to pick up on her minimal participation. He undresses her easily, strips down to his boxers, then goes to press her on to his bed. “What do you like, lover?”

The words, unfortunately, bring Miriam into the moment. So much for letting him take what he wanted, treating this like business. He can probably see the fear now. She’s never been good at lying. Bartering, sure. Lying, definitely not. She closes her eyes.

He pushes her into her back, spreading her legs at the same time. “You haven’t been with a man, have you?” One finger, long, rough, thrusts into her. It stings. She bites back her reaction. Pushing him away sounds good about now. She wiggles in discomfort.

Despite her movements, he keeps his finger still. “Answer me.” There’s an edge to the sick smoothness now. “In a complete sentence. And open your eyes.”

A desperate gulp. “No, I haven’t had sex.”

He pulls away. “Did you think you could trade yourself for this cesspool?”

“There are children living here, Mr. Burke.” She feels sick. She sits up and covers herself with one arm.

Mr. Burke laughs. “Children are replaceable, my dear. I could very well put one in you tonight.”

“I’m not your dear. I just wanted—”

He cuts her off with a wave of his has he sits in a chair. “Hush, now. If you’re going to whore yourself for this town, you’re going to do as you’re told. Put your arm down.”

“So we're doing this?”

“What did I say?”

She puts her arm down and firmly presses her lips together, blushing.

“Good girl. There are at least 50 people living in this hole. Now, I think we can agree, one night is not enough in exchange for those lives. I will need to attend to some business before we can continue this properly but after that, I will send for you. A year of service, I believe, will suffice.”

 _A year?_ “No. I’m not going to be a slave.”

“No? I don’t believe you’re a position to negotiate. One year of your time in exchange for the lives of all these people.” He said it as if he didn’t consider them people at all. “I should be demanding a lifetime. A year is generous of me.”

“I’m not even supposed to have sex until I'm married,” she blurted out. “I’m training to be chaplain and you said it yourself. I could get pregnant!”

“Oh, my dear girl, you are naked in man’s bed. Your morals have already been set aside. Now, what is worth more to you? Your freedom or those two urchins? Answer me.” He doesn’t touch her, simply stares with a faint smirk. He knows her answer.

“Them.” The lack of tears is surprising. She should be crying.

“Good girl. I believe, since you are inflating your own worth, a year a child will do better. Two years.”

She has this feeling, deep in her stomach, that if she tries to fight him, it'll only get worse. “I'd like to find my father first, if that’s alright. You said you have other business to attend to.”

“You can have a month, and, of course, tonight will be our little insurance.” He picks up her Pip Boy, casually set aside. “I assume you're able to track the date.”

“Yes, sir.”

He inputs something in it, a note, and then returns to what they'd been doing when he discovered her intentions. He's surprisingly gentle about it all, taking his time. Occasionally he orders her to do something. It’s awkward and uncomfortable for her. He finishes and she tries to ignore how disgusting it feels, the alien soreness.

She tries to get out from under him, but he’s stroking her arm. “Do you need something for the pain?”

“Fuck off.”

He tuts his disapproval. “I suggest you watch your language from now on. I’m looking after your well-being, clearly something your missing father is not doing.”

Miriam wants to spit at him, but he’s already off her and prepping an injection. “I don’t need it.”

“My dear girl, I determine your needs from now on. Now, sit up and give me your arm.”

“No.” She sits up anyway and reaches for her clothes. “I don’t belong to you yet.”

“Now, now, my dear. I am offering you something you don’t fully comprehend.”

She snorts as she dresses. “You gave me a month. I’m using it. Goodnight, Mr. Burke. See you in a month.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had my daughter on the 16th. She's a month early because of a car accident but we're out of the hospital now. I have several chapters of this written already and set to update on Sundays. I probably won't have time to respond to comments but I didn't want to leave you all hanging.

Miriam doesn’t get to Vault 112 until her time is almost up. She has four days when she steps into the simulation pod, two and a half when she comes out, disoriented. James practically runs her over in his attempt to get back to work until she says, much louder than she ever intended, “Pop, for the love of fucking God, stop! We need to talk!” She’s never done this, never raised her voice, swore, or taken God in vain. The last month has changed her, from watching Amata kill someone, to her brief encounter with Burke, to replacing the GNR dish, to horror after horror.

“Oh, honey. You haven’t had access to your medicine since you left, have you?”

“This isn’t about my VDS!”

James gives her an awkward hug, holding her. In a detached manner, she tries to figure out when she got taller than him. Was it really only a few years ago? “Honey, I wanted to you to stay in the vault so you could be treated.”

“There wouldn't be anyone to treat me! Jonas is dead!”

“Oh, my little Miriam. Come on. Let’s get you back to Rivet City. We will get you re-medicated and then get back to work.”

“I can’t go to Rivet City with you,” she whispers, the anger turning into despair. He's not going to listen. He’s not going to help. “I’m expected somewhere else in a few days.”

Miriam longs for him to ask where and why but all he does is ask if there’s a doctor. She bunches her fist as he writes a note for whatever doctor she can find and hands her a small pile of caps. “That should be enough. Please, come see me when you’re feeling better.”

 _That’s it? Mom’s project is so important to you won’t ask what’s wrong?_ “Daddy.” 

“I know you’re scared, honey, but it’s just the anxiety. You made it this far without me. I’m sure you'll excel at whatever is next in your life.” 

“Can we at least pray before you go?”

James smiles. “Of course.” His prayer is quick and after the amen Miriam feels empty. Normally, their shared prayers helped her. Now, well, she guessed that this was what growing up meant. Willingly stepping into two years of slavery.

One last hug at the door to garage and James is gone again. Miriam, once again, expected to cry but didn’t cry.

* * *

Tenpenny Tower is an impressive and imposing structure. Technically, Miriam got there seven hours early but she didn’t care anymore. She scrolled through Mr. Burke’s note, feeling a slight pang. He called her his “Songbird” and this place was now her cage. High walls, the gate didn’t even look rusty, only the boarded up windows on every single floor. Enough floors she felt dizzy trying to look at the top. A glided cage at the top of a high tower. Like a story book, only without a prince charming to rescue her.

The idea of Butch in Talcon Company armor makes her chuckle.

Miriam approaches the gate, surprised to see someone else there at this time of night. An agitated ghoul, if the voice was anything to go by. She kept her distance until he left, then approached. Whomever stood on the other side of the gate assumed she was the ghoul. “Actually, um, a Mr. Burke is expecting me? My name is Miriam. Miriam Patrick?”

“Yeah, he told me to expect you. Don’t cause trouble.” The speaker crackled off and the gate swung open. Adjusting her pack, she stepped into the courtyard. The gate closed behind her with a mechanical groan. She flinched.

“Vaultie, huh?” the security guard says. p>

“Yes, sir.” She suddenly wishes she'd changed out of the 112 vault suit before leaving the garage. Not that her 101 suit looks any better.

“The elevator to the penthouses is straight behind the desk.”

She fights the urge to run when she steps into the lobby. None of the residents paid her any mind. Only the security guy, who entered behind her, gives her a passing glance. The music instantly grated on her nerves. Everything about this place was too perfect. Everything felt wrong, like the wrongness of Mr. Burke.

She froze by the desk, staring at the elevator as it opened. Mr. Burke stepped out and spoke to the guard. “Good afternoon, Gustav. Have you dealt with the ghoul situation?”

Gustav ignored the question and motioned toward Miriam. “Your guest arrived.”

Miriam held her breath as Mr. Burke sees her and leans in to kiss her cheek. “Hello, my dear. Go on and clean up. I'll be upstairs soon.” A key presses into her palm.

She blinks him. That wasn’t how she expected this to start. A gentle greeting, instead of a slave collar.

“Are you alright, darling?”

She shakes herself out of it and says she’s fine. The squeeze of his hand warns her although she's not sure against what. She quickly moves for the elevator. As the door closes, she hears the guard say, “Some communities would string you up for letting a girl that young into your bed.”

Miriam almost drops to her knees there in the elevator. It’s a slow assent and panic bubbles like boiling beans. Still she manages to make it to the apartment with Burke on the door. The rooms aren’t much, simply furnished, but somehow the cleanest thing she’s seen outside the Vault. Hiding under the covers appeals. Not that she could sleep for two years.

Instead, she flings her bag somewhere and goes to the bathroom. Doing as Burke said makes her feel sick but she hasn’t bathed in a month. The water is warm, a rarity even in the Vault. The soap smells unfamiliar but heavenly. It doesn’t take long for her start nodding off.

The apartment door opening startles her. The wall separating the bathroom and the main room doesn’t keep him away for long. “Tired?” He holds a towel open for her.

She sinks deeper into the tub, wishing briefly she'd drowned herself in the remains of the Potomac.

Mr. Burke sighs and reaches into the tub to pull out the plug. He's dressed for bed. “Miriam. It’s nothing I haven’t seen. No need to be shy.”

Without the water to cover her, she gives up. Shaking from the sudden cold, she accepts the arm out and the threadbare towel. The kiss is harder to acknowledge but it doesn’t go was far as it did the first night. She’s got one arm holding up the towel and the other gripping the edge of the tub. The thudding of her heart wars with the sick-feeling of her stomach.

Mr. Burke nips at her lip as he pulls away. “Let me get you something to wear for the night. We'll get you some proper clothes in the morning.” He returns with a shirt and then leaves the bathroom again. Giving her time to compose herself, she assumes.

When she comes into the main part of the apartment, he's sitting at the desk reading. She vowes to ignore him and kneels beside the bed to pray. Her mind is blank for a moment, only the sound of Burke turning pages. _God, did you forsake me when I left the vault? Or did you forsake the entire world centuries ago?_

”Miriam, darling, go to sleep. You don’t have to wait for me and you most certainly don’t have to kneel. I want you to be comfortable here.”

Miriam mumbles her reply.

“Speak up.”

She grits her teeth but forces each word out. “I’m. Not. Kneeling. For. You.”

He doesn’t look up as he continues to read. “Of course not, my dear,” he says as if he doesn’t believe her. He nods toward the lamp on the desk. “Does the light bother you?”

She ignores his attempts at being nice and bows her head again. She’s definitely not praying this time, but it’s all she can think to do to spite him. He doesn’t want her comfortable, not really. This arrangement wasn’t meant to be comfortable. The bomb in Megaton looms too close.

The book shuts and Miriam almost flinches. “Darling, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Miriam waits a few more minutes before saying amen and standing. “Goodnight, Mr. Burke.”

He doesn’t acknowledge her this time. The small victory makes it surprisingly easy to fall asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Miriam wakes spooning with someone, a long hand moving under Mr. Burke’s shirt. “Are you awake, lover?” As the hand moved up, his lips find her ear. “I believe you owe me an apology. You were unpleasant company last night.” Miriam vows to ignore his hand but it cups her breast and pinches her nipple. She gasps. “There we are,” he purs. The body behind her felt lean but strong. He smells of something metallic. “Are you going warm up for me like a good little girl?”

Miriam wants to remind him she wasn’t doing this for caps but he keeps playing with her breast. It felt good. Shame cut off her thoughts but didn’t stop quiet moan. “I—I—Not like this. Stop,” she stuttered.

Mr. Burke ignores her protest and keeps kneading her breast. “Why would I stop something we both enjoy?”

Miriam wiggles, trying to get away from him, but her movements had an affect on him. She gasps at the erection pressing into her flesh.

His hand dips lower, separating her legs enough to get access to what he wanted. “You don’t have to be a martyr. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying sex. I don’t want to be rough with you. I can get rough sex for a few caps.”

She clinches her jaw and purposefully tenses as much of her body as possible. Was it petty? Probably, but it wasn’t like they had a contract. He said two years with him, not that she had to pretend to like it.

He rolls away and she involuntarily relaxes. “Perhaps you'll be in a better mood this evening, then.”

Something about his decision to stop doesn’t sit well with her. She asks a question without thinking first. “Are you fucking with me?”

He ignores her question and starts dressing. “If you want breakfast, I suggest you get dressed and meet in the lobby in twenty minutes. Mr. Tenpenny requires my input on something this morning.” As he ties his tie, he leans over and kisses her. “I laid out an outfit for you. Please wear it.”

Miriam watches him leave, closing the apartment door behind him. It takes a few minutes for her to get the courage to get of bed. Then, she quickly realizes all her gear, including her Pip Boy, were missing. A small safe sits under his desk but without her screwdriver and bobby pins, she couldn’t try opening it. Fuck, the note from her dad. If Burke went through her stuff, he knew.

God, she doesn’t want this to be so damn complicated. She dresses quickly, thankful he gave her a pair of pants, then made her way m to the lobby. She looks around nervously, unsure what to do.

“Are you lost, little girl?” A blonde woman calls over from a chair, a cigarette dangling from one hand. 

Miriam tries to hide, suddenly aware of how much she stood out compared to the other residents. Nearly six foot tall but scrawny as a stick, in ill-fitting clothes, and still sunburned from her month in the Wastes. “I’m waiting for Mr. Burke, ma'am. Should I be somewhere else?”

The woman gives a single “Ha” of false laughter. “No wonder he refuses my company now. He wants them inexperienced. How old are you?”

“Nineteen, ma'am.” Despite the modest nature of her clothes, Miriam feels utterly exposed. Looking around, she catches the eye of one of the security personnel. He gives her shallow nod but continued his patrol.

The woman continues to speak casually, as if they didn’t have an audience. “Has he gotten you on your knees yet? He likes that.”

Before Miriam could answer, a hand wraps around her middle. Mr. Burke pulls her against his side. “Are you having a pleasant conversation, my dear?”

“We were just discussing our mutual profession.” The woman speaks with a 

”I doubt you were ever a woman of the cloth, Miss Lancaster. Now, if you'll excuse us.” Mr. Burke guided Miriam away, towards the café. “Are you alright?”

Miriam stared back towards the lobby. So Miss Lancaster was a whore, like Nova and Silver, and she supposed she herself. The openness the wasteland had with sex still surprised her. They didn’t talk about it much in the Vault. “Yes.”

”Good.” The proprietor of the place came to take their order, and Burke ordered for her. Then, he turned that cool expression on her and took her hand. “If you aren’t, I expect you tell me. Now, what happened with your father?”

Miriam bites her lip and casually pulls her hand away and places it in her lap. “He’s in Rivet City.”

“Perhaps we can visit him the next time Mr. Tenpenny sends me out.” 

Her stomach dropped at the thought. Burke and her father had to be the same age. James would be disgusted and he made it pretty clear the other day he didn’t want an explanation. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Mr. Burke leans forward and Miriam fights to stay upright. He pushes a piece of hair out of her face and whispers, “I don’t recall giving you an option, lover. Think of the Simms boy, of little Maggie. Don’t abuse the length of the leash I've given you.”

His smile took away what little desire she had for food. She stirs her bowl of Sugar Bombs until they went soggy. Miriam eats slowly, eyes on the food. Mr. Burke keeps one of his hands laced with hers as he ate his own food.

The meal seems to take forever and not long enough at the same time. Once again, Mr. Burke guides her to their next stop, a store in the lobby that sold clothing. It took more hours than she cared to admit for the owner to find what he deemed necessary. The man doesn’t bother to ask them for either of their opinions, just held up outfit after outfit. Once he had enough, he spoke to Mr. Burke. “That should be enough for your new doll.”

Mr. Burke takes the outfits with a slight nod and then set the bundle gently in her arms. Then, he took her face in his hand. “Go back upstairs, darling. My books should keep you busy enough while I deal with our ghoul problem.”

Oh, God, the ghoul that was outside the night before. “What are you going to do?”

He pats her cheek. “Nothing you need to worry about, my dear. Run along.”

* * *

There’s nothing much she can do while she waits for him to come back from killing the ghouls—and she has no doubt that’s what he’s doing—so she finds herself mindlessly cleaning the room. Burke keeps the space tidy but he obviously spends more time not in the apartment. A wet rag suits her well enough to clean the sleeves. Then, ever so carefully, she replaces the books, dust shaken from the pages. She sneezes.

She keeps cleaning until her body aches. The door unlocks right as she’s wondering whether or not she's expected to wait up. She automatically looks up from her work and the sound. Mr. Burke places his hat and glasses on the desk. “I didn’t expect you to clean, thank you.”

Miriam watches him his jacket and unbutton his vest but doesn’t speak. She can see blood and bits of rough-looking skin. The smell of ghoul floated her nose like wading through a subway. The ghouls who wanted in were really dead, then. Her knuckles went white around the bed frame.

“Miriam, darling, you look upset.”

“Why?”

He shakes his head and chuckles. “Don’t question it, darling. It’s clear you're not ready to understand doing something unsavory for the greater good. Now, let’s get ready for bed.” Mr. Burke finished dressing down.

Miriam turns around to take off her blouse. Mr. Burke’s hands took over as soon as her shoulder were bare. Lips met her neck as he pulls the fabric aside. A strange little whine leaves her mouth.

The chuckle buzzes against her neck. “Good girl. Just relax.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so busy with the baby that I'm barely thinking about my writing. It's to be expected I guess.

Relaxing turns out to feel like the last thing Mr. Burke wanted. The slow exploration and undressing of her body made her squirm. Mr. Burke chuckles into her neck again, then steps away. Another whine, this one almost a groan or moan, left her. She slaps her mouth.

“You’re alright, Miriam,” Mr. Burke assures, walking around to her front. He sat down in his desk chair. “What are you feeling?”

Miriam crosses her arms. Her breasts aren’t much to look at, as Butch likes to point out. Still, anything to make her feel less exposed. “Seriously? Like you don’t know.”

“I’m not a mind reader. Arms down, please.”

She narrows her eyes. “People here think you’re some sort of pedophile.”

“You mean ephebophilia, darling, the attraction of an older person to those in their mid to late teens. And yes, I am. You’re perhaps the third woman around your age I've been with.” He said it so casually, her stomach drops. “You’re a bit taller than I usually prefer. That might be because you’re pleasantly healthy. Now, arms down. Don’t make ask again.”

“This is wrong.” She lets her arms drop.

“Good girl.” He smiles. “Can you answer my question? How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” she lies. Disgusted, horrible, and still somehow aroused. She knew enough about her body to know the source of the warmth. It must have been because of his careful touches. She had no reason to tell him anything.

The smile turns knowing. She keeps her eyes on his face as he raises his hips to remove his boxers. Then, he pulls her toward him. Gently, he presses on her shoulder until he is deep inside her. “How does that feel?”

She doesn’t particularly like it. It feels tight, full, although less alien than the first time. He rocks beneath her, hitting a strange spot inside her. She grabs at his shoulders in surprise. “Whoa.”

“There we are.” He guides her as he moves at a steady speed. It starts feeling different after a few seconds, warmth and tension building where they were connected. She caught on with his rhythm, moving with him. Then, his speed increases, startling her.

“Don’t fret, dear,” Mr. Burke says between obscene grunts. “I’m almost done. Then, I'll take care of you.” She basically rides out his orgasm. The stickiness fills her again, and he goes limp. He pulls out of her but doesn’t take her off his lap. “How do you feel now?”

“Gross,” she whispers.

“That’s to be expected. You're still getting used to sex.” He starts gently rubbing her back. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Something about his little movements calmed her. She forgot how little she was touched. Still, she unfolds herself from his lap. “I can clean myself.”

“I am aware my dear, but a capable man looks after his belongings.” He sets her on her wobbly legs. The way he steers her toward the bathroom is too gentle to be manhandling but still feels forceful. She closes her eyes when she hears the sink turns on. When she refuses to make it easier on him, he squeezes her hips. “What are their names, Miriam?”

At that, she changed her posture to something that would make easier for him to clean her.

“Do not think you’re getting off easy. I asked a question.”

Even though he already knew exactly who Megaton's children where, telling him the names feels wrong. The reminder of why she was here. “Harden and Maggie.”

“Better. You _will_ learn not to hesitate.” The cloth felt smooth on the inside of her legs, higher quality than she'd ever felt. Once he deems her lower body clean enough, he steers her back to the main room. “But for now I need rest.”

He fell asleep before her. Something told her she wouldn’t be getting much sleep in the next two years.

•••

He woke up before her as well. When she wakes, almost happy to be alone, she hears him chuckle. He's sitting at his desk, a plate of food in front of him. “Good morning, Miriam. Sit here, facing me, arms at your sides. No speaking.” He gestures to a small stool by his feet.

The Brahmin steak on his plate smells alright but she makes no comment. She’s gone longer without food to fast. If he means to punish her more for yesterday, he won’t get far. She sits on the little stool. There’s no humiliation in sitting at his feet either. It’s not as if there is anyone to see.

“Doing as I say first off. Good girl.” He cuts the steak and to her surprise, offers a piece to her on his fork. “Open your mouth.”

To say she doesn’t understand feels like an understatement. “Why---“ The piece of steak is in her mouth before she can say more.

He pulls the fork out of her mouth, leaving the piece of steak on her tongue. “I said no speaking, darling. To answer your question, you barely ate yesterday. This is the only way I can be certain you eat. Chew and swallow.”

She wants to spit it in his face but she’s not entirely sure she'd live if she did that. Instead, she eats every bite he offers. When the plate is empty, he pats her on the head. She glares. Biting the hand that feeds her tempts.

“Remember to eat when I’m gone and this humiliation won’t be required.” He wipes her lips with his thumb and then kisses her forehead. He stands, then pats her back. “Go on, get ready for the day, my dear. Mr. Tenpenny wants to meet you.”

Miriam's heart pushes up into her throat. What kind of man would Mr. Tenpenny be? What sort of man hired a monster like Mr. Burke to blow up a town? She imagined a perfectly dressed man with a swirly mustache, like a bad guy from a holotape, surveying the Wasteland below like a king. She longed to push him off the top of the tower. With her fist clenched, she imagines far to many ways for these men to die.

Mr. Burke grabs Miriam by the wrist. “Mind your temper, Miriam.”

Miriam tries to pull her arm away, but Mr. Burke's grip remains strong. She swings her free arm, smacking his face.

He drops her arm. Expression wise, he looks like walking into the vault freezer. “You seem to have forgotten why you’re here, my dear. I offer you a place in my bed, I clothe you, I feed you. I make our temporary. As far as masters go, I am mild. The anger towards myself and my employer needs to stop. What are their names?”

Miriam keeps her fist clenched. “You. Are. Evil.”

“I do what I do for the greater good. Girls are my one act of selfishness.” He pats her cheek. “Do us both a favor and keep thoughts like that to yourself.”

She snaps at his hand.

Mr. Burke sighs. “This is going to be a long two years.”


End file.
